


Comradery

by KellCavs



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Dire Situations, Escape, Father-Son Relationship, Matter of Life and Death, Other, Scout is an asshole, brief mention of scouts brothers, dad!spy, of course, reluctant relationships, spy is a father figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-16 13:53:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9274862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KellCavs/pseuds/KellCavs
Summary: Spy and Scout are grievously injured behind enemy lines and Spy has to make an important decision. Save himself? Or save them both? How is he going to get them both back to their side without dying? How does Scout thank him for his actions? Spy has some thoughts he'd rather not have regarding the boy.I see Spy and Scout having a (rather reluctant) father-son relationship, so this isn't sexual at all.





	1. Flight

**Author's Note:**

> no beta-reading. we publish our shit writing like men.

Spy managed to drag the Scout’s half-dead, goddamn, ninety-pound corpse into an abandoned Sniper’s nest before collapsing in exhaustion and crying out for the Medic. He pulled himself up to sit against the wall and nudged the Scout with the tip of his shoe.

“Stay awake,” he gasped, both to himself and to the currently dying boy on the floor; he groaned as he lifted his arm and held a gloved hand over the gaping wound in his side. He pulled his hand away, the dark leather turning black with his blood. He honestly felt like his shirt was the only thing keeping his organs inside of his body at the moment.

Down below them, he heard the screams and cries from the battle raging below. Judging by the explosions and gunfire, it would be a long time before anyone noticed they were gone – and even longer before anyone thought to send a Medic after them.

The Scout coughed violently, blood spraying from his mouth and dribbling onto the floor. This was bad… Far worse than Spy had realized. If he wanted to get them both back alive, he’d have to be agile. And fast.

“I will get you back alive,” he promised, hunching forward and groaning in pain again. “I swear to you, we will make it back alive.”

Scout moaned in response, his back heaving as he struggled for air as blood filled his lungs. “Hurts, Spy,” he whimpered.

Ordinarily, Spy would mock him at the sound of fear in his voice. Not today. Now, there was something different, something that made him want to comfort the boy. It made his heart ache. He swore to whatever sick-minded god above he’d eat his own tie if this wasn’t just some sort of end-of-life bullshit that was overcoming him. If he was actually starting to care for Scout, he’d jump off the roof of Teufort.

_Fuck._

He  gave a huge sigh and winced in pain at the action. “Mon dieu,” he hissed as blood oozed onto the floor. It was soaking his coat, the fabric turning a deep, wet purple.

Spy’s ears perked up as he heard someone charge up the wooden stairs. He readied his Ambassador and pulled the safety, firing it as he saw a flash of blue. The enemy sniper gurgled, his dying breath escaping through the brand new, free of charge hole in his neck. He'd have a good laugh over that later when he wasn't actively dying. He had bigger things to worry about. He had to get them both out of here – now.

With every ounce of strength in his body, he heaved himself up off the floor and swung the Scout’s limp body over his shoulders.

The Ambassador at the ready, he charged down the stairs, surprising an Engineer working on a dispenser. He couldn’t resist putting a sapper on it, chuckling weakly to himself as he ducked through a corridor. Scout was still dangling limply from his shoulders.

“You will stay awake for me,” he said, bumping him with his shoulder. Scout was jostled a bit and groaned weakly.

“We’ll be on our side… just a few hundred more feet.”

“Behind…” Scout whispered, drawing his scattergun. He fired, clipping the BLU spy in the shoulder. He took aim a few more times as the enemy advanced before eventually taking him down.

“Merci,” Spy said, backstabbing the BLU Pyro as he rushed over the line, finally over into their territory.

“The enemy has taken our intelligence!” the Administrator roared into his ear piece.

 _I couldn’t care less if you paid me more,_ Spy thought, feeling himself growing weaker.

Scout had grown even heavier in his arms. He had gone limp and Spy swore.

“Fuck… Medic!” he shouted, begging the good doctor would come to his aid.

“The enemy has dropped our intelligence,” the Administrator said, sounding much calmer now. “We have taken the enemy intelligence.”

He heard the roar of a minigun and paused, cloaking both himself and the Scout. It wasn’t until the RED Soldier came barreling past them, the intelligence strapped to his back that Spy uncloaked himself.

The Medic was still nowhere in sight.

“Doctor!” he cried again, his voice much quieter.

He could see the doors to the respawn area… just a few dozen yards left.

As the Spy rushed past the Heavy, blackness pricked at the corners of his eyes.

He set Scout down and dragged him the last few yards over the threshold of the doors of respawn. Blood seeped into the sand like some sort of sick version of Hansel and Gretel's breadcrumb trail.

Scout was pale, blood still dribbling out of his mouth, some already dried on his cheeks and chin. He was gasping for air like a dying fish on a dock. Air was making its way into his chest cavity, causing a death-rattle to force its way past his lips.

Spy dropped to his knees and crawled to the resupply cabinet. He opened the doors and instant relief flooded over him. The worst of his wounds healed instantly, leaving him covered in the remaining bruises and non-life-threatening lacerations. They would heal in their own good time, as they usually did. He got up and picked up the (presumably still alive) boy and set him on a bench and gave him a health pack.

Color instantly returned to Scout's face and he coughed violently, clearing blood from his lungs. A dark clot dislodged itself from his chest and he spat it up onto the white linoleum.

“Aw, man,” Scout groaned, “That’s nasty.”

“Speak for yourself,” Spy said, straightening his cufflinks. He pulled out his cigarette case and removed one and lit it, the nicotine more than welcome in his lungs. He let it hang from his lips as he sat down on the bench beside Scout to collect himself a bit.

Scout looked down at his shoes and coughed, more to clear his throat than anything.

“So… uh,” he started, twiddling his thumbs.

“Oui?” he hummed, scratching his chin. Spy removed the cigarette and breathed out a lungful of smoke.

“You, um… You saved me,” he said, wishing he could say something less stupid sounding.

“I did.”

“Why? I mean, you could have just let me die. Respawn would have picked me up.”

“I am aware. I just felt that I had an obligation,” he said, sounding mildly amused. A smug grin played on his lips.

“Look, man, if you’re just screwin’ with me then I don’t wanna have this conversation with you no more. Why don’t you just say ‘You’re welcome,” like a normal person?”

“You seemed like you wanted answers,” Spy said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah, but if you’re gonna make it weird then just leave it go. But a 'you're welcome,' would have been cool.”

Spy chuckled and stood up and took another drag from his cigarette.

“De rein,” he said, flicking ash from the burning tip.

“Hey, uh, I don’t owe you nothin’, right?” Scout asked, also standing up. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his running shoes, looking uncomfortable.

“Not a thing,” he said, shaking his head, “Consider it a motion of comradery.”

“Hey,” he chuckled, “Thanks.”

Scout reloaded his guns and readied his bat. “See you on the field,” he said.

Spy tipped his head forward and let a small smile played on his lips. He watched the boy sprint through the doors and back out onto the battlefield.

So it wasn’t just an end of life action that stirred those feelings up, then. _Fantastique._


	2. Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their near-death experience, Spy has a few questions he hopes the Medic can answer. He gets a tad more than he bargained for when he pays a visit to the good doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, no beta-reading. we publish our shit writing like men.

After the battle, Spy hung around at the back of the line of battered and bruised mercenaries so he could talk privately to the Medic. He honestly couldn’t believe he was going to willingly talk to that sadist. He suppressed a shudder as he remembered what happened when it was recommended that they all get those damn prostate exams last year.

About fifteen minutes after Pyro lumbered out humming a song by the Foundations under their breath, Spy figured it was safe to go in.

“Can I talk to you?” Spy asked, pushing open the door to the medical ward.

“Ah, Spy!” the Medic grinned from his stool. He was currently stitching up a rather nasty gash on the Sniper’s arm, though it looked like the arm had been recently reattached. “Please, do come in. I am nearly finished with Herr Sniper.”

“I can come back,” he said quickly. “I didn’t realize I was interrupting something.”

“Nonsense!” the Medic said cheerfully. He wiped his hands off on his slacks and snipped of the strings. “Have a seat, I’ll be finished soon.”

Spy sighed and sat on the small folding chair near the corner and waited for Medic to finish up with his patient.

“There you are,” Medic said, clapping a blood-smeared hand on the Sniper’s back.

“Thanks, mate,” he said, hopping down from the metal table. He tipped his hat to Spy and pushed his way out the double doors.

“Now,” the Medic said, wiping his hands off on a towel, “What can I help you with today?”

“Oh,” Spy said, suddenly nervous, “I have a few cuts that need cleaned up and I also had a few questions… If the latter wouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

“Of course not!” he exclaimed, “Have a seat, Herr Spy.”

Spy dusted the table off with a (rather expensive, mind you) handkerchief and sat down and crossed his legs. He removed his jacket and laid it beside him.

“What is the problem?” Medic asked, shooing a bird from the table. He gestured for the Spy to give him his arm, which he did. He began to clear the blood away from a deep wound on his arm so he could stitch it up.

“Earlier today, I was trapped behind the BLU lines with Scout. And we were both grievously harmed.”

“I heard you call for me,” he said, “And I apologize. I was ubering Heavy and could not get to you in time.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, “We made it back, but I had a few questions.”

“About what, my friend?”

Spy winced slightly as Medic began to sew up his arm.

“Ah, is there such thing as wanting to protect someone towards the end of your life?”

Medic looked up, slightly surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not quite sure how I can make that clearer,” he said.

Medic shook his head and chuckled a bit, “No, no, you’re right… I suppose the question caught me a bit off guard.”

Spy pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I am not sure how I felt,” he said, “Back there with the boy. I had an urge to protect him, to get him back safe to our base. I knew that we would both respawn if we didn’t make it, but I was so afraid for him.”

“I’ve read about this before,” he said, looking a bit curious, “About soldiers’ being filled with just enough strength to carry their dying friends back to safety.”

“It wasn’t just that,” he said, jerking his arm back a bit. He scowled when Medic held it in place, but then sighed. “I felt an obligation… Like a protectiveness towards him. I’ve never felt that way about anyone, especially him before.”

Medic was silent, concentrating on stitching up Spy’s arm. When finished, he pulled away and stood.

“Herr Spy, may I ask you… rather personal question?”

“Ask away.”

“Have you fathered any children?” he asked.

Spy scoffed. “Not that I know of.”

“Have you ever wondered?”

He frowned. “I’m not in the business for having children, Medic. My line of work doesn’t exactly allow for it.”

Medic wandered to a tall gray filing cabinet in the corner of the room. He opened a few drawers and pulled out a manila folder with a bright, angry looking ‘classified’ stamp across the front. He brought it back to the table and tossed it onto the surface.

“Do you remember about six years ago, the Administrator ordered the respawn system updated?” he asked.

Spy nodded.

“This folder contains your DNA sample, as well as the results of said test.”

“And?”

“This test reached into every government data base across North America – and even non-Soviet countries!” The Medic chuckled and straightened the papers in the folder. “It analysis and breaks down all similar DNA structures in the system…”

Spy was getting a tad impatient. All he’d come here for a few answers on why he suddenly cared so damn much for the little brat. Well, at least he wasn’t strapped down to the table with a probe up his ass and his organs missing this time. It was slightly better than that.

As Medic prattled on, Spy huffed a loud sigh. He shut his eyes and gritted his teeth. He always made snide comments about not wanting to be tied down to a family and he always left every woman he slept with immediately after.

Except… No. No, it couldn’t be.

 _Iris._ A sweet American girl with a too-thick accent and too-large front teeth. 1945 – right after the war. He was in America doing a little off-the-books sightseeing. They had an incredibly short, whirlwind summer fling and she wrote to him for a while after that. She’d had a kid about eight months later, a little boy. He didn’t really recall the name she gave him, but she was sure it was his…

He’d called her his little flower. His petite chou-fleur…

But that was years ago.

“Spy,” the Medic called, snapping his fingers, pulling him out of his daydream. “Are you paying attention?”

“Hmm, yes, pardon, Doctor,” he said, shaking the fog from his head.

“Back to what I was saying,” he huffed, sounding a tad annoyed, “Would you like to enlighten yourself?”

“Monsieur,” he said with a soft chuckle, “Haven’t you heard the old saying ‘curiosity killed the cat?’”

“Ja, but satisfaction brought it back,” Medic teased with a wink. “So, would you like to find out the truth?”

Spy frowned again and held his hand out.

Medic gave a satisfied smile and handed the file over.

“The seal is broken,” the Spy noted, raising a brow.

“What can I say? I couldn’t resist,” the Medic said, giggling like a child.

 _So much for that Hippocratic Oath_ , Spy thought, glaring at the Medic.

Spy sighed and looked at the file. “May I take this to my quarters to look over? I will return it when I am finished.”

The Medic clicked his tongue. “Nein, nein, nein, my mysterious friend. How can I be sure you haven’t destroyed anything within it?”

Spy grumbled something under his breath and looked at the file. Its broken seal and hidden contents seemed to mock him.

“Can you at least stop hovering?” he snapped. “I find it rather hard to concentrate with your stale breath on my neck.”

The doctor nodded once and backed away. “Doesn’t like… being snuck up on…” he muttered to himself as he wrote something down.

Spy shot a glare in his direction as he sat down on the stool. He pulled out his cigarette case and went to light it.

“Bitte, I ask you not to smoke in here, mein freund,” Medic called from the cage where he kept his birds.

He sighed and shoved the case back in his jacket.

Goddamn doctor… won’t let him smoke but he can keep those rats with wings flying freely around a _medical ward_ of all places.

The Spy took a deep breath and flipped open the folder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAUGHS HYSTERICALLY. when i published the first chapter of this, comic #6 hadn't come out yet but now that it has I'm just gonna keep things as they'd be if it hadn't come out.


	3. Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy does his best to avoid Scout after reading over the results of the DNA test, but sometimes, life just likes to mess with you.

After reading the file, Spy wandered in a daze. He struggled to believe the words on the paper, but there they were, screaming out to him from the paper. _Like match. Relation found._ Spy suppressed a shudder. He’d shoved the file into Medic’s hands before lighting out of the medical ward before he fainted. Christ only knows what would have happened then.

He shoved open the doors to the battlefield, now dark and silent; the total opposite of the day’s fight. He lit up a cigarette, not even caring if the light on the end gave him away to potential enemies. It was their own goddamn fault if he decided to shoot him. They’d get reamed out by administration – not him. He’d gotten that talk before, something about “ethics” and “potential crimes against humanity.” _Blah blah blah._

All he wanted right now was a walk, and damn it, he was going to take a walk. Enemies be damned.

Spy had almost gotten to the edge of the fence when he reached for another cigarette in his case. He spotted a light on the hill, a figure occasionally stepping in front of it. Sniper, wandering through his van, of course. Spy scowled at the thought of the repulsive bushman up in his van, living in his own filth. He spat in the direction of the van and continued on with his walk.

As he walked, his mind wandered to every potential situation regarding the test results. It could have been a cross-contamination on the tests. That was the one he'd like the best and wanted so hard to be the truth. Perhaps it was Medic or Administration playing a cruel trick on him, trying to see what it would take to make him finally snap after all these years. He wouldn’t put it past either of them to see if they could fuck with his mind too. Maybe it was all those enemies he’d gained during the war finally catching up to him. Or maybe, just maybe, that hyperactive little shitbag was his kid after all. Honestly, after all that had gone on in his life, this was just how it would go now… His luck, right?

It was early morning when Spy returned to his quarters, a faint pink just beginning to shine over the horizon, signaling that it was almost time for Soldier to awaken and unintentionally rouse everyone with his morning drills. Not a whole lot of time to sleep, unfortunately.

Spy sighed and sunk into the chair next to the fireplace in his study. He’d finished off all of his cigarettes during his walk and would have to put in an order for more. How wonderful. He’d be more bitter than usual for the next few days – especially if he had to swallow his pride and ask the Sniper for a box to hold him over.

He drifted off for a while, waking a few short hours later to Engineer singing in the kitchen as he made breakfast. A faint mumbling indicated that Pyro was with him and attempting to sing along. He tried to go back to sleep but had no such luck and sighed angrily.

Spy took that as a hint to get up out of the chair and make his way to the shower. If anything, he’d be lucky and avoid Scout. The little asshole usually slept later than the rest of the team anyway. He grabbed his shaving kit and headed towards the washroom.

He showered quickly, scrubbing the soreness and stiffness out of his muscles and letting the water wake him up a little bit. He was at the sink, his mask pulled up just enough to allow him to shave when Scout walked in, completely shirtless and wide awake indeed.

Spy glared at him from the mirror as he cleaned the straight razor off on a towel. Better to be aloof as usual than let the little brat know anything was up.

“Ready to kick some BLU ass today?” Scout exclaimed, flexing in the mirror at himself, “Oh yeah! I’m ready! Look at that, would ya? Majestic! Absolutely fuckin’ majestic! God, I am just such a gift...”

Spy rolled his eyes and continued shaving, trying his best to ignore him. If Scout was his kid, he wondered, how the hell did that come from him? Maybe it was all those brothers…

“Heya, Spy!” he said, sounding way too goddamn cheerful, “Morning! Boy, you look like shit! Did ya take one too many hits to the face yesterday or what?”

If he’d had less class, Spy would have actually hissed at him. Instead, he did the mature thing and flicked shaving cream off his razor and ignored him.

“Yeesh, okay then,” Scout mumbled, sounding a bit annoyed. He turned and went into the showers.

Spy quickly finished up and left the bathroom before Scout would come back out. Or worse, start to sing.

On the battlefield, he avoided everyone as best he could. He figured if he stuck to the enemy lines he’d get in a few good backstabs and keep his team from bitching to him later on that night.

He smiled to himself as the domination sound rung out as he backstabbed the enemy Spy again. “See you in hell!” he blurted out, forgetting himself in that moment.

“Hey, there’s a Spy over there!” he heard the enemy Scout exclaim.

 _Shit,_ Spy thought, _Gotta go._ He ducked into an alcove and turned into the enemy team’s Medic and bolted from the shadows.

“The Medic’s a Spy!” the Scout shouted.

 _Rat bastard_.

He ran through the fort, backstabbing the BLU Pyro before he could get set on fire.

“Spy!!” the enemy Scout cried again. Well, that was getting annoying.

Spy cried out in surprise as Scout smacked him in the back of the knees with a metal baseball bat. He quickly turned and pulled out his gun, readying it and firing off a few rounds.

The Scout dodged them all with ease and took another swing at him.

Spy ducked and laughed as the Scout took a bit of damage from the miss. He took the extra bit of advantage he’d gotten and shot him in the leg.

The Scout screamed and dropped to one knee, but still kept his bat up and ready to swing.

“Drop it,” Spy hissed, “We fight like men.”

“Fuck you,” BLU Scout grumbled, “Just fuckin’ shoot me and get it over with, will ya? I got head’s to bash in.”

Spy raised a brow and pulled out his Ambassador. “You just want me to shoot you?”

“You’re gonna gloat? Jesus, you’re even more of a pompous asshole than my team’s Spy. Dime a dozen, goddamn, no good –“

_BANG!_

_Merde, that was satisfying,_ he thought. Why did I want to waste my time fist-fighting? This was much easier.

Scout slumped over, dead, as Spy pocketed his gun and gave the body a swift kick for good measure before cloaking and disappearing onto the roof of the other team’s fort. As he dropped down, he pulled on the BLU Scout mask and dashed across to his own side.


	4. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a revenge kill on the battlefield, Spy has a slight mishap with the respawn system and someone makes a discovery.

“That Scout’s a Spy!” he heard the BLU Engineer yell in that stupid sounding little accent of his.

Spy snapped the Southerner’s neck before he could shout another warning. He sighed and backed into a corner as he hid the man’s body and pulled on a mask of his likeness. Respawn would get him before anyone realized what was up.

He dashed across the open field, hoping no one would bump into him and muck up his disguise.

As soon as he crossed the line, he removed the mask and lit up a cigarette. He took a deep drag and sighed, checking his body for injuries. He quickly patched himself up and grumbled something about his nice suit being torn.

 _Get used to it_ , the voice in his head hissed. He sent it scurrying away with another inhale of nicotine. _Honestly, why are you still surprised by the fact that your suits are always being torn? That’s what you get for wearing a $10,000 suit to a bloodbath._

Spy rolled his eyes and stamped out his cigarette.

He pulled out his knife and rounded the corner, adrenaline still running through his body.

He’d only made it a few feet from his hiding spot before he felt the sting of a bullet graze his thigh.

“Fuck!” he shouted, clutching his leg. He dropped to the sand and hissed in pain as he turned to see his assailant.

BLU Scout stood behind him, bat in hand and a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

Spy raised a hand to try and throw his knife, but Scout slammed his hand away with the bat before bringing the bat back around and bashed it against the side of Spy’s head.

He groaned and fell backwards, spitting up a tooth and a bit of blood.

“That’s what you _get_ , old man!” BLU Scout cackled, throwing his bat over his shoulder and preparing to swing again.

Spy raised himself up on one elbow and bared his teeth.

“Not so tough now, huh?” the enemy grinned, taking a few practice swings in mid-air, “Gee, must be a real downer for ya!”

“You do not have to gloat, you tremendous, imbecilic _child_ ,” he spat.

The BLU Scout made a face, feigning offence before smiling again and taking a stance, perfect for bashing someone’s head in (he’d perfected it over the years – it was his little invention. Gave the bat the right trajectory and everything).

Spy frowned and made a disgusted face.

“Kinda hard to stab someone in the back when he’s beatin’ ya frickin’ head in, huh?” the BLU Scout shouted before taking a huge swing with his bat and caving the Spy’s head in. The enemy was sprayed with blood and visceral matter as he continued to bludgeon in Spy’s face and the rest of his body.

By the time the BLU Scout had left and respawn came to pick up Spy’s body, he was completely unidentifiable. Even the Medic, deranged and violent, would have had trouble telling the difference between his face and a pile of ground beef.

When Spy appeared in the spawn room, he was sick to his stomach and staggered to the drain in the corner and vomited up the entire contents of his stomach. He was dry-heaving and trying to collect himself when the bell rang out, signaling the end of the round and a stalemate for the day.

“Y’all right there, pal?” the Engineer asked, sounding concerned. He knelt down beside Spy and put a large, comforting hand on the Frenchman’s back.

“I am fine,” he said, shrugging him off and shakily rising to his feet.

“Got a bad trip through respawn, huh? Must have been one helluva death!” he chuckled.

Spy just glared at him and wiped his mouth before walking out of the room and into the main base.

The Engineer, apologetic, followed after him.

“Hey, uh, I didn’t mean to upset you or nothin’,” Engineer said, looking up at his coworker.

“It’s quite alright, my friend,” Spy said, “Don’t worry about it. I’m not upset.”

Spy ducked his head in respect and pushed his door open to his smoking room and sinking into a chair. He poured himself a drink and lit a cigarette.

It would be several hours before he dragged himself out of his study and down to the kitchen to force himself to eat something.

Medic was in the kitchen, drinking coffee and reading the evening news when Spy walked in. He offered a warm smile and one of the nine rickety chairs at the table. He was dressed casually, his coat probably hung up in his lab. His vest was unbuttoned and his tie was loosened around his neck.

Spy helped himself to a bowl of whatever was on the stove top, still warm from suppertime. He could only assume Engineer (with help from Pyro, judging by the burnt bits) made chili for dinner.

It wasn’t his favorite, but he was starving, so it would have to suffice for now.

As he took a seat next to Medic, the German set down his newspaper.

“I heard about your respawn mishap on the battlefield today,” he said.

Spy looked over at him. “Engineer told you, I assume?”

“One has to make conversation when one is shoving one’s organs back into another’s body,” he said with a light chuckle.

“Mm, that is understandable,” Spy said, trying not to sound uncomfortable.

“If you have a rough death, there’s bound to be glitches in the respawn system,” Medic said, folding his newspaper up, “Remember when Tavish blew himself up after he fell off the cliff a few months back? It took me weeks to fix him up completely. Consider yourself lucky that all of your parts were within distance of each other.”

There was a soft cooing from beneath Medic’s shirt and he looked down at the small moving lump beneath his shirt.

“Ah, hello, my love,” he smiled as the small head of a white bird poked out. He reached into his shirt and pulled out the dove. He nuzzled the animal and set it on his shoulder.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Medic spoke again.

“Have you had time to think about the results of the DNA tests?” he asked.

Spy kept his eyes down, not wanting to look at the good doctor.

“I have,” he said.

“And?”

“Do you think I should tell Scout?”

Medic shrugged. “That’s not up to me now, is it?”

Spy chuckled a bit, “No, I suppose it isn’t.”

“What do you think you should do?”

Spy put a hand on the back of his head. “I think that I should… Oh, I absolutely no idea.”

“What about speaking with the boy’s mother?”

“I don’t even know if she knows if I’m the same man,” he said, “That was so long ago. I doubt she’ll remember me. Scout won’t forgive me. I can’t tell him… and I can’t tell his mother either.”

“You can’t keep it bottled up,” Medic reminded.

“I told you,” he said, “Isn’t that good enough?”

“I already knew,” he said, “I’m not sure I count.”

Spy sighed and rolled his eyes. “Well, there’s not really a list of people I would like to know of the relationship between myself and the boy. That’s not exactly something I’d wish for the enemy to know. I’d prefer if we kept this between the two of us.”

“Well, we’ll see what happens,” the Medic said, standing up and taking his paper.

He left the kitchen, leaving Spy alone with his late supper.

Outside the other entrance to the kitchen, the Scout stood in shock, still reeling in the conversation between Medic and Spy.

It had to be a joke, right? There were cameras and shit, it was Administration fucking with him; it was a test! It had to be!

Scout looked around, but saw no cameras, no mics… No one jumped out to tell him it was a joke.

Suddenly not very hungry, which was quite unusual for him, Scout retreated to his room and flopped down on his bed.

“Holy frickin’ shit,” he whispered.


	5. Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scout approaches Spy and together, they address the issue.

It took Scout a long time before he left his room. It wasn’t until about four in the morning before he went to the kitchen in search of something to put into his stomach.

He slumped into a chair and ran a hand over his face. The conversation between Spy and Medic were still bouncing around in his head and he wanted something to make them stop.

He got up and went to the fridge and pulled a beer out, along with a sandwich from earlier. It probably belonged to Heavy, but he figured the other man wouldn’t care.

Scout sat back down at the table and began to eat, suddenly remembering how hungry he was.

Over his sandwich, he thought long and hard about what he’d overheard earlier.

Spy was his father?

No. Nope. Fuckin’ hell no. God no. Nein. Nyet. No. Nope!

He didn’t want to believe it, but… something told him that he’d better believe it.

Maybe he’d talk to the Medic later. Maybe he’d just misheard the conversation. Yeah! That was it! He came in at the end! That goddamn Frenchman went and knocked up some chick in town and now he was paying for it! Hah! Poor fucker.

Scout left his plate and bottle on the table and went to bed to get a few hours of sleep before the battle began the next day.

That day’s battle passed without too much incident. The usual scrapes and deaths and broken bones and a secured enemy intel left the entire team in good spirits.

Scout was able to slip off to Medic’s lab, wanting to be first in line to talk to the man.

He pushed his way through the door and greeted him.

“Heya, doc!” he said cheerfully as he sat down at the table.

“Ah, hello, Scout,” Medic replied as he hooked up his medigun, “What can I help you with today?”

Scout suddenly became nervous.

“Oh, uh… I wanted to, uh, ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“I, uh… Overheard a conversation last night…. I probably wasn’t supposed to hear it, but I did, and I just got a lot of questions, doc.”

Scout hung his head, ashamed to admit he was eavesdropping.

Medic washed his hands and went over to where Scout sat.

“Well, start with the first question,” he said, “May I ask what this conversation was about?”

Scout looked up at him.

“I, uh…. I heard you and Spy talkin’.”

Medic’s face was suddenly serious and Scout began to wonder if he should run out of the room screaming.

“Oh,” he said, “You heard us.”

Scout chuckled nervously. “Yeah.”

“Well, there’s not really any sense in trying to cover it up then, now, is there?” Medic got up and crossed to a tall gray filing cabinet, much as he had done several days ago when Spy sat on the same table.

Scout fidgeted on the table, unable to keep still as usual.

Medic came back and handed him a file. “Since you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, here is the same file I presented to the Spy a few days ago.”

The boy nervously took the file and crossed his legs and flipped open to the first page, his heart racing.

_Like match. Relation found._

Scout felt like he was gonna fall over. Or throw up. Or both.

“Doc,” he said quietly, “Does… What the hell?!”

Medic stood beside him, his hands behind his back and a grim expression on his face.

“What the hell does this mean?!”

“Now, I know you’re not that stupid,” Medic said firmly, “You have the brain capacity to put two and two together. I should know – I haven’t removed any part of your brain.”

Scout shot him a look. “Yeah, cut the crap, you damn Kraut. Is Spy my dad?”

“Scout, being a father doesn’t mean impregnating the mother and leaving… To be a father is to raise a child.”

“Augh, man, I don’t wanna think about that! Just cut the crap and tell me. Is Spy my dad?”

“I—“

“ _Tell me!”_ he shouted.

“Yes.”

“Fan-fuckin’-tastic.”

Scout hopped off the table and shoved the folder against Medic’s chest and raced out of the medical wing.

Medic sighed and put the folder back in the cabinet. He turned to the cage of birds in the corner.

“Archimedes, I am lucky we are not fathers,” he sighed.

The bird cocked its head and cooed, as if responding to the statement.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Spy was absent at dinner that night, as usual. He wasn’t seen by any member of the team until early the next morning as they lined up in the spawn room.

He said nothing, and neither did Scout.

As the bell went off and the sirens started up, Spy watched Scout run ahead of the team. He rolled his eyes and pressed a button on his watch.

He ducked into the shadows and slipped along until he was behind enemy lines. He pulled on a BLU Heavy disguise and lumbered out, knowing the only ones who would know about his disguise was Pyro, hiding up in the rafters – and Soldier, who was standing in the doorway with his newly-repaired Cow Mangler.

Spy managed to take out several enemies before someone caught onto his masquerade, but not before he killed the BLU Engineer and taking out their sentry, dispenser AND the exit for their teleporter.

Damn, he was good at what he did.

Later that evening after another stalemate (and several unfortunate headshots that left him in a sour mood), Spy was having a quiet drink in his room and flipping through this month’s issue of _Dapper Cadaver_.

It was only after he’d nearly finished his drink and his magazine that he even thought about the fact that his (he shuddered at the word) son slept rooms away down the hall. Or so he thought.

He put his magazine down and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose to try and ward off the impeding headache.

A quiet knock on the door reminded him of a little something called coincidence and he stood up to greet his visitor.

“Oui?” he asked, the question coming out a bit harsher than he intended.

He wrenched open the door – and found Scout standing there.

“Oh, hey, uh… You’re awake,” Scout chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

Spy raised a brow. _Don’t let him know anything is amiss. He’s an idiot. He won’t catch on._

“Can I assist you with something?” he asked, looking at him.

 _He really does look like you,_ the voice in his head said, _He’s got her eyes, though. And her teeth._

“Yeah, uh, I had a… A question,” he said, “I was wonderin’ if you’d help me with somethin’.”

“I thought we discussed this already,” he said, smirking a bit, “You are terrible with ladies and you will die a virgin.”

“Hey, I didn’t come here lookin’ for trouble, alright? Lemme talk, Spy. Please?”

“Very well,” Spy said with a sigh. He held the door open and gestured for him to come inside.

He offered the boy a seat and a bourbon, both of which were accepted with gratitude.

“Now,” Spy said, sitting down and crossing one leg over the other, “What did you want me to help you with?”

“It wasn’t really somethin’ you could help me with. More of a, uh, question.”

Spy nodded, allowing him to continue.

“I, uh… Jeez, how do I even put this? Spy, I gotta know… I heard you and Medic talkin’ last night and I heard you say somethin’ that I can’t get outta my head.”

Spy froze, the glass half way to his lips. He suddenly felt the headache from earlier blossom up in his head.

“And?” he asked.

“I heard ya talkin’ about… How you’re my real dad.”

Spy sighed and put his glass down. He stood up and ran a hand over his face.

“Scout,” he said, “I feel like this was something neither of us were ever intended to know.”

The boy looked up at him, glass clutched in his hands. He felt like he’d done something wrong, but then felt kind of upset. It wasn’t his fault! That rat bastard, good for nothing frog…

“But now that we both know,” Spy said, looking over at him, “I suppose it is something we must address.”

“Yeah, I guess it is, huh?”

“But trust when I say, we will not talk until you are ready.”

“I’m ready,” Scout said.


	6. Addition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy and Scout have a long talk until Engineer tells them to go to bed. At the battle the next day, the team discovers something has been added to their intel, only they have no idea what it is. They only know to protect it.

“Okay, okay, lemme see if I got this,” Scout said, putting his palms together and pointing them at Spy. “You didn’t even know my mom that long?”

                The Frenchman nodded and blew smoke out of his mouth.

                “That’s true. Iris and I were only acquainted for a short time before I took my leave.”

                “You ever meet my older brothers, then? Donnie’d probably remember you. He’s real smart.”

                “I met two of them,” he said, “The twins. Gap teeth.”

                Scout laughed, fondly recalling his two brothers.

                “Yeah, then you met Donnie and Artie.”

                “She mentioned the others, but I never met them.”

                Scout nodded and smiled a bit wider.

                “Jack’s in the army,” he said, “And Johnny got hurt in Korea. Nick, uh, Nick didn’t come home.”

                “I’m sorry,” Spy said with a solemn nod.

                “Yeah, me too. Ma cried for months. Let’s see…. Last time I talked to Ma, I think she said that Stretch, er, sorry, Willy, lived in Nebraska somewhere with his wife or something. He’s got a kid, I think her name is Rachael or somethin’. The rest of ‘em either are married or got real serious girlfriends.”

                “And you’re here.”

                “So’re you.”

                Spy opened his mouth for a quick comeback, but a quiet knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Spy invited the knocker in.

                “Hey, Spy. Oh! Scout, you’re here too! Well, that makes my job easier,” Engineer greeted from the door, “I just wanted to let y’all know it’s almost midnight. Thought you’d wanna know, seein’ as we got work tomorrow.”

                Gods above, had they really been talking for almost four hours?

                “That’s very good, Engineer, thank you.”

                The Southerner nodded and offered a kind smile and shut the door.

                Spy stood and took his empty glass to the small sink. He rolled up his sleeves and rinsed it before drying it and setting it back on the tray.

                Scout watched him carefully, still unsure that this was all real. _He had to phone Ma…_

“Now we agree,” Spy said, “This changes absolutely nothing between us. We are simply coworkers, not parent and child. The others do not know, save for Medic.” _And that intolerable Australian, but that was a lucky guess. A shot in the dark._

“Yeah, yeah… We can still pretend to hate each other, if that makes you happy. Hell, it’d make me happy some days.”

                “Oui, we can still pretend to hate one another.” Spy smiled at the boy and nodded.

                Spy and Scout then said their goodnights, neither wanting to make eye contact with the other in fear of something gross and sentimental would happen.

                Scout would have upchucked on Spy’s shoes in rebellion if that’d happened. Spy would have probably gutted himself.

                It was probably best that they simply left it at “Night!” then.

                The next morning was better, but not by much.

                Scout was stretching in the corner, working out a crick in his neck when the Administrator’s voice crackled over the loudspeaker.

                “New information has been added to RED intel. Guard it with your miserable lives!” she ordered.

                Spy felt his stomach drop. He shot a look over at Scout, who now matched the color of the floor. This couldn’t be good.

                No one else seemed to think anything of it.

                “Alright, men, you heard the lady!” Soldier bellowed, shouldering his rocket launcher.

                “I’m gonna need a bigger sentry,” Engineer said, going to the supply cabinet.

                The rest of the men scrambled for bigger and better weaponry to protect their intelligence as the clock on the wall ticked nearer towards the start time.

                Spy took a deep breath. He’d have to be fast today.

                “Three… two… one… Kill them all!” the Administrator screamed over the battlefield PA system.

                Almost immediately, the sounds of explosions and gunfire could be heard as the two teams met head on.

                “Sentry, goin’ up!” Spy heard Engineer cry out from far behind him.

                “Incoming!” Demo shouted shortly before he was bounced high into the air and exploding upon contact with the ground.

                Spy saw the lumbering form of the enemy Pyro run past him towards the intel.

                “I don’t think so,” Spy grumbled, chasing after him.

                Poor, dumb bastard never saw Spy’s knife coming.

                And he didn’t see the enemy Scout’s bat until it was too late. He did manage to duck and shoot the boy in the side. They’d both taken some damage, but it’d slowed the kid down enough so that Engineer’s sentry would finish him off.

                A few seconds later, the horrified, dying screams of the BLU Scout confirmed it.

                Spy smiled to himself. Now that the enemy knew there was a sentry guarding their intel, they’d have to find a new way around it. That would by them a bit of time.

                He ran out of the hallway leading to their briefcase just in time to see the BLU Spy decloak and bury a knife in Scout’s back.

                The boy didn’t even have time to scream before he crumpled to the ground in a heap, blood spurting out of his severed spinal column.

                Spy, not even thinking, took out his gun and fired his entire clip at the enemy Spy, who didn’t even have time to cloak himself.

                “I think he’s dead, mate,” he heard Sniper call from a top a railroad car.

                Spy made a sweeping “fuck you” gesture at him and rushed off to cloak himself.

                He actually made it to the enemy’s intel before someone figured out there were one too many BLU Engineers and started shooting.

                He activated his Dead Ringer and snuck around the back and backstabbed each of the men in that room. He made a mad grab for their briefcase and raced out of the basement of the BLU base.

                “Go! Go! Go!” Scout shouted at him as he ran by.

                Pyro muffled something that was probably “I got your back!” and followed him, flamethrower in tow.

                A flicker of blue in his peripheral vision made him draw his gun and shoot. He didn’t stop the enemy Spy, he knew that.

                Pyro didn’t stand a chance.

                Spy ran with his back facing the wall, his eyes straining to see that shimmer of wall that didn’t quite match the rest of the barn.

                _There!_ He shot twice, but didn’t look to see where. He might not have hit him. _Merde._

                He was almost back to the base…!

                A rush of air beside him followed by the unmistakable electric whoosh made him stop in his tracks.

                “Missed me.”

                Spy screamed as the enemy Spy buried his knife in his back.

                As he lay dying, he heard the Administrator in his earpiece.

                “We have dropped the enemy intelligence!”

                As he appeared in the respawn room, he picked himself up off the floor and ran out again just as Scout ran past the double doors, intel strapped to his back.

                “Come on, bug eyes! Gotta catch me first!” he cackled.

                Spy smiled in amusement and peaked around the corner to see the BLU Pyro chasing after him, giggling with delight. He was about to pull his gun out when Heavy came around the other side and lit the trigger happy pyromaniac with enough bullets to kill the entire enemy team. Twice.

                “Congratulations, we have captured the enemy intelligence,” the Administrator said, sounding slightly amused.

                This went on for several hours.

                Scout was walking and dragging his leg behind him thanks to a severed tendon when the victory bell went off. He dug a health kit out of the dirt in a shed and made his way back to the base to celebrate.

                Spy clapped him on the back and smiled fondly at him. “Well done,” he said with a proud smile.

                “Hey, thanks,” Scout grinned.

                “What was in intel?” Heavy asked, looking confused, “Why new information?”

                “I’m not sure,” Engineer said, taking his hat off to scratch his head. “Must’ve been important enough to warrant Helen puttin’ it in the briefcase, y’know?”

                Spy nodded in agreement. “We never questioned her decisions or read the intel before. This time is no different.”

                “Spy is right,” Medic said, starting to herd everyone out of the room, “It’s not our business to know. It’s only our job to guard it with our lives.”

                “Who wants beer? My treat!” Scout suggested after a minute of silence, much to the happiness of his teammates.

                As the eight other mercs left the room cheering happily at the promise of free beer, Spy lingered in the room, lagging behind the others.

                He offered one look at the red briefcase, which contained enough information to destroy the world, and smiled. He nodded at it, as if saying “well done,” and shut the light off and followed his teammates upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! <3 This was so fun to write, especially trying out the voices (both internal and external) of the characters involved in this story. I'm so grateful for those who left kind comments and kudos on my work. I never intended on making this story longer than the first chapter.
> 
> For those interested, I'm taking requests for new stories. I'm not limiting myself to just TF2, so if you're unsure of what fandoms I'm involved with, pop on over to my tumblr @smarchit and message me! You can also message me here on AO3 and you can submit your request. I look forward to what you send me to write!

**Author's Note:**

> "Do you see me as a father-figure, Scout?"  
> "NO. If anything, I see you as a bother-figure, cuz you're always bothering me!"


End file.
